


...And One Time Shere Khan Offered to Help Scrooge McDuck in Turn

by appending_fic



Series: Pentaflores [3]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017), Talespin (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Temporary Character Death, Friendship, Gen, Grieving, Mention of Della Duck, Or Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:27:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29684652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/appending_fic/pseuds/appending_fic
Summary: Shere Khan seeks Scrooge out when he hears about Della.
Relationships: Louie Duck & Scrooge McDuck, Scrooge McDuck & Shere Khan (Jungle Book)
Series: Pentaflores [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2163165
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	1. For His Loss

Shere Khan paused at the gates to McDuck Mansion. He'd come here uninvited once before, with his four-year-old son in tow, looking for help from Scrooge McDuck. He was here today for a different reason.

"Sir is at the Money Bin," Duckworth informed Shere Khan when he rang. "And your chances of a meeting with him are low."

"I'm not here asking for help, Duckworth," Shere Khan replied. "I…" He sighed. "Thank you, anyway."

At the Money Bin, they were much more easily intimidated by Shere Khan, which is how he was able to slide into Scrooge's office in the wake of a shouted, "Go away!"

"I don't think I will," Shere Khan murmured, pausing to take in the scene. Scrooge looked terrible - his feathers ruffled and unwashed, clothes rumpled, and eyes bleary and red-rimmed. Several platters of food sitting at the edge of his desk, untouched - only a series of teacups at his side hinting he'd made even a token effort at self-care. He was glowering at a computer screen, not even looking at the intruder.

"Scrooge," Shere Khan tried, to no effect. "Scrooge?"

"McDuck!" he snapped at last, drawing a twitch of Scrooge's head, and a meeting of gazes that would at least force Scrooge to acknowledge him. "How are you?"

"Oh, just _peachy_ ," Scrooge drawled, punching a button on his computer. "Isn't it obvious?"

"Obviously things are going poorly," Shere Khan replied smoothly, "but have you been eating? Sleeping?"

"Of course not. I need to keep my eye on things, make sure no one's skimping on the rescue efforts. I commissioned a fleet of ships to go after her - lucky we've got Gearloose's design already-"

" _McDuck_!" Shere Khan shouted, cutting through the rambling.

Scrooge squinted at Shere Khan blearily, a fixed stare before he slumped back in his chair.

"Shere Khan," he said.

"Obviously. I came to check in on you."

"Why?"

'Because your niece is probably dead' would be too blunt, and unnecessarily pessimistic for the moment (however likely it was to be true). 'Because no one else can talk to you without risking their job' was confrontational and somewhat off-topic.

"Because someone should," Shere Khan said, at last, sitting across from him. "How is Donald holding up?"

"No idea," Scrooge grumbled. "He took the eggs and vanished - probably thinks I'm a danger to every other member of my family. He's probably right."

Shere Khan pressed his lips together, used to biting back his first response just to think if it would...help (fatherhood had taught him helping was usually a higher priority than accuracy, precision, and, at times, the truth).

"Well, if you give him some time to cool off-"

"I said he's _right_ ," Scrooge growled. "What's more, **you're** right. I'm a danger to every animal I allow close to me. My parents cursed, my niece missing or - _worse_. It's the price of my hubris - that's what priests like harping on, right?"

"Granny Khan never held with - Kithian scripture," Shere Khan replied with a shrug. "She never taught me to expect any god caring how well I thought of myself, or what I dared to do. And all that nonsense about sacrifice - well. Suffice to say the Khans wouldn't agree this is your due." He took a moment to pause, reflect, and to direct himself back on track. "And you aren't _cursed_ , Scrooge. Those in your vicinity may lead _exciting_ lives-"

"And how would you know, when you've done your best to stay out of it?" Scrooge retorted with a dismissive wave of his hand. 

Shere Khan dug his claws into the arms of his chair rather than respond. Scrooge was hurting, and responding in kind would accomplish nothing. "I hear a great deal about your niece from those in my _own_ life," he said, mild. "And while I do my best to discourage Bagheera from responding to your occasional siren call to adventure, I...do not worry any more for his safety in _your_ hands than anyone else's. Quite the opposite, actually."

"More fool you, then," Scrooge muttered. It was a deliberate taunt, but an ill-aimed one - his distress was clearly having an effect on him.

"Have you eaten?" Shere Khan asked, instead.

"They brought in food," Scrooge said, waving at the untouched platters, and Shere Khan rolled his eyes.

He grabbed Scrooge's phone, ignoring his token protest, ordering enough food for four, hoping if Scrooge could be persuaded to eat, he might eat enough to hold him until some other brave soul bullied him into it.

Scrooge glared at Shere Khan at the - temerity, probably, of stealing his phone and ordering _his_ staff around, which continued even as Shere Khan forced him to eat a sandwich and half a serving of potatoes. Most of what Shere Khan had ordered remained untouched, but he was at least convinced Scrooge wouldn't starve in the next few hours.

"How is it going?" Shere Khan asked once he was certain Scrooge was done eating.

"Slowly. Badly. Like trying to find a needle in the interstellar void."

Shere Khan didn't ask how long Scrooge intended to look for Della; it would be a waste of breath, just to hear Scrooge say exactly what _Shere Khan_ would do if it were his daughter (like Donald, Samaksh was too sensible or cautious to do something like steal a spaceship and get lost hundreds of thousands of miles from home. Nanda, on the other hand...might not be):

Until he ran out of money or breath - whichever came first (and Scrooge could _always_ make more money).

Well, of the things people have said about you, they've never claimed you aren't persistent," Shere Khan replied. "If there's anyone who can find her-"

" _If_ , that's the thing, isn't it?" Scrooge snarled, lunging over the table to poke Shere Khan's shoulder. "I'll scour the universe for a _trace_ of her, til I breathe my last, and if I can't find her then…"

He fell back, arms slumped, defeated, and Shere Khan knew the unspoken conclusion.

If Scrooge couldn't find her, wasn't _enough_ , he'd have failed her one last time.

But Shere Khan knew, in the roundabout way of their circle of acquaintances, more of the story than Scrooge had shared. And he was frustrated with Scrooge's self-pity. So he said, archly, "And what would she have been if you hadn't taken her in? Abandoned by her mother - maybe separated from her brother-"

"Maybe she'd have been lucky and be taken in by someone like you - scared enough of their own shadow they'd keep her away from anything _half_ as dangerous as this!"

It was another cheap jab, and Shere Khan again refused to rise to it. But as ineffective as it was, the attack confirmed Shere Khan's suspicion that he wasn't the right animal for the job of pulling Scrooge free of his self-pity. What's worse, he didn't know who _was_ \- no one Scrooge employed had the courage, he _wouldn't_ speak to any family who'd try to talk to him, and that left-

Goldie? She wasn't introspective enough to offer _anyone_ advice. 

Santa Claus? Scrooge wouldn't accept _gifts_ from the bear, much less an attempt at consoling him.

"I think I will take my leave," Shere Khan said, quiet, steady (with no hidden threat, no concealed anger - in case it made a difference). "I hope - I wish you the best of luck, Scrooge. And my door - and ears - are always open, if you wish to seek me out."

Shere Khan left, however, without much hope - because he was certain the only person with whom Scrooge could find absolution was Della Duck herself.


	2. For Them

That first Christmas after Della came back, Louie went to find Scrooge after everyone else went to church.

(Louie wasn't certain _why_ Donald had dressed them up and taken them out every Christmas and Easter before the return to Scrooge's home - he hadn't taught them more than the kids' stories about Yora the Great Lion, warrior against the darkness and occasional martyr. There hadn't been religious schools or even so much as a reminder to follow whatever strictures you were _supposed_ to. And _Della_ hadn't seemed enthused about the trip - suggesting Donald hadn't been making a token effort to respect _her_ beliefs.)

Scrooge was turned to the window, sipping at a mug. When Louie drew close, he smelled chocolate and peppermint, and as he stepped around the desk, saw a smile on Scrooge's beak.

"You're not much for singing and being lectured at by another old fart, eh, lad?" Scrooge, apparently just noticing Louie.

Louie shrugged, uncertain how to voice his discomfort with the stories that came along with otherwise unobjectionable ceremonies. Christmas was alright, but Easter services always involved retellings of the Great Lion's sacrifice for the sake of someone who didn't deserve it at all, and the last year had left Louie uncomfortably aware that he was more likely to play the part of the unworthy than Yora.

"Well, pull up a chair and I'll see if we can rustle up some hot chocolate for you," Scrooge said.

"I'm fine," Louie replied, but did find a chair. Sitting even with Scrooge, he could see Scrooge was looking at a stack of photos - or postcards - depicting a small group of animals. The one currently on top showed a leopard about Louie's age grinning at the camera, arm slung around a tiny panther (or, Louie amended, a dark-furred tiger) whose own expression was somber - matching the expression of the adult tiger looming behind him, who was leaning into a panther, who stared fondly down at the whole crowd. The leopard was in a simple red dress, and the rest in suits - blue for the tigers, and a muted brown for the panther.

There was something about the picture that seemed familiar.

Seeing Louie looking, Scrooge grinned at him. "This is an old one," he explained, flipping through the stack of ten or eleven photographs, the children aging in moments until Scrooge handed him the one on the bottom.

The elder tiger and panther were a little grayer at the muzzle. The leopard was clearly _adult_ if not _old_ , and sported brilliant red fur on the top of her head, and was wearing a pale blouse and sport jacket, and was sprawled against the smaller tiger, who looked on the verge of scowling at the camera. The older tiger was smiling himself - not as sappily as the panther, but the smile was there - and Louie realized what had struck him about the first photo.

"Is that _Shere Khan_?" he demanded. "Are you and Shere Khan friends? Or are you enemies and he just sends you taunting family photos every year?"

"Heh," Scrooge huffed. "For a few years, I might have thought he was taunting me, showing off his family while I was stuck here without one. But no - we're old friends. One I haven't spoken to in...a long time." He sighed. "I was the best man at his wedding - but then Della vanished and...well, you can guess."

"I'm sorry," Louie said, waving a hand at Scrooge, trying to convey the seriousness of his shock. "You're _best friends_ with Shere Khan and this is the first I'm hearing about it? Why isn't that on Webby's board of McDuck facts? Does she even _know_?"

"If you know anything about the CEO of Khan Industries, it's that he's a very private individual. So any - photographic evidence - is hard to find." Scrooge patted Louie's head. "And...we already weren't speaking when Webby came into the picture. Or - I wasn't speaking to him. _He_ kept sending me Boxing Day cards."

Louie flipped over the postcard, which did indeed wish the recipient a Happy Boxing Day.

"He thought Christmas cards would remind me of Santa Claus," Scrooge explained, and Louie snorted. 

"So...why don't you call him?"

"It's been a long time, laddie," Scrooge replied, sinking back into his chair. "And - I wasn't kind to him, the last time we spoke."

And Louie - got that, not wanting to re-open lines of communication when you'd said unpleasant things to someone. "You could _try_ ," he said, rather than trying to dig down for an inspiring word. "He was your _friend_ \- I bet you miss him, or you wouldn't be staring at his Boxing Day cards."

"Ach, you may be right, but." Scrooge stared down at the oldest card. "There's no need to spoil his Christmas by calling in if he doesn't want me to."

Louie rolled his eyes and reached back to pick up the phone, shoving it into Scrooge's hands. "Come on. Just push through the fear and _call_. If it doesn't go well we can bitch and drown our sorrows in hot chocolate _afterward_."

Scrooge huffed, but he was smiling. "You're a good one, lad - I don't think we say it enough."

"I'm the _evil_ triplet," Louie replied, "remember?"

"Yeah, I remember hearing something to that effect," Scrooge said as he dialed the phone. It was quiet for a moment as he held it to his ear, and then, "Ah - Bagheera? This is...Scrooge. McDuck. Is Shere Khan available?"


End file.
